There's No Stork
by therentalspace
Summary: "What if I told you the reason I'm not breaking up with Artie isn't becaue I love him? What if I told you that if I was able to, I would break up with him in a heartbeat?" Breathless, Santana waited.  "I'm pregnant." post-Sexy Brittana two-shot
1. Part 1

There's No Stork: Part 1

By: SometimesIWish

Santana rummaged through her locker, searching for the history homework she needed to turn in for her next class. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brittany walk up to her and stand a few feet away. Swallowing with difficulty, she finally found the worksheet and stuffed it in the red binder in her arms, willing the tears welling up in her eyes to disappear. She didn't need to cry in the middle of the hallway again.

"Can I… can I talk to you?" Brittany asked hesitantly as Santana carefully shut her locker.

The Latina turned to make a scathing remark, but saw the worry reflected in Brittany's eyes, so she simply nodded. Brittany bit her lip anxiously and ducked her head, but not fast enough to hide the tears beginning to trail down her cheeks.

"Britt, what's wrong?" she asked softly, taking a step forward and cradling Brittany's chin in her hands, lifting her face gently so they were staring into each other's eyes. Deep blue eyes shone with sorrow and fear and Santana's heart felt like it was splitting in half. It had never occurred to her that her confession of love for Brittany could have been just as hard for the blonde as it was for her.

The blonde suppressed a sob and Santana dropped her binders to the ground, not caring that her papers scattered all over the hallway floor as she pulled Brittany into a hug. Brittany buried her face in Santana's shoulder and her body shook as she cried. The bell rang and the halls cleared, leaving Santana and Brittany standing in the middle of the hall by themselves.

"Come on, let's go somewhere we can talk," Santana murmured, and Brittany nodded into her shoulder. The Latina kept an arm looped around Brittany's waist as she moved them down the hall towards the Cheerios' locker room. They technically weren't allowed to use it since they weren't Cheerios anymore, but Coach Sylvester didn't hang around much since she was the new coach for Aural Intensity.

The locker room was empty and a few locker doors had been left open, revealing the barren space inside. The normally stressed-out environment was now eerily empty due to the Cheerios' loss at Regionals. Santana stared around the locker room as Brittany moved swiftly to the sinks on the other side of the room.

"Brittany, what's going on?" Santana asked.

"What if I told you the reason I'm not breaking up with Artie isn't because I love him?" Brittany asked in a quiet voice. Breathless, Santana waited. "What if I told you that if I was able to, I would break up with him in a heartbeat?"

"Is he… is he hurting you?" Santana asked fearfully as Brittany leaned over the sinks, resting her hands on the edge of the white porcelain to support herself.

"I'm pregnant."

For a moment, Santana stared. Then she started laughing, shaking her head. "Brittany, I told you, storks don't bring babies," she murmured, walking forward and resting her hands gently on the blonde's shoulders. "A stork building its nest right outside your bedroom window doesn't mean you're going to have a baby."

"I made that up."

Again, Santana stared, not quite comprehending what Brittany said. "What?"

Brittany turned to face Santana. "I didn't want Artie to know yet," she said, her eyes begging for the Latina to understand. "When he said that in glee, I said the first thing that came to my mind, and everyone thinks I'm stupid anyways, so… so they believed me. And now I don't… I don't know how to tell Artie and I can't tell my parents or anyone else, and I thought I could tell you, but how else would everyone else know…?"

She broke down in tears, wrapping her arms around her middle, as if she was trying to keep herself from falling apart. Santana stared at her, her eyes wide in disbelief and horror. After a moment of stunned shock, she stepped forward and pulled Brittany into her arms.

"We're going to figure this out," she murmured, rocking her back and forth.

Even as her heart was breaking, she silently promised Brittany that she would support her through everything, no matter what.

* * *

><p>"Miss Holliday, we need to talk to you."<p>

Holly Holliday looked up at them with an excited expression, her smile fading when she saw the serious looks on both Santana and Brittany's face. "What can I do for you girls?" she asked.

Santana shook her head and glanced around the classroom full of chattering students, pulling Brittany even closer to her. "Can we… can we talk to you alone?" she asked in a whisper. "And, like, right now? It's really important and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't."

"Of course," Miss Holliday murmured. She turned to her class. "Guys! I'm going to step outside for a few minutes to talk about grades with some students." There were cheers and she grinned wryly at her class before sweeping a hand towards the door.

"So what's this about, guys?" Miss Holliday asked as she gently shut the classroom door behind her. She looked expectantly at Santana and Brittany.

"Britt… Brittany thinks she's pregnant," Santana whispered.

"Honey, I told you, when a stork builds its nest next to your window, it means nothing except that you're probably going to have to get a wildlife expert to take it to a preserve or something," Miss Holliday said in an exasperated voice.

"She's late."

Holly's eyes widened and she looked at Brittany differently. "Well, have you… have you gone to a doctor or taken a pregnancy test?" she asked gently.

Brittany shook her head, dropping her eyes to the floor.

"Do you know who the father is?"

The blonde glanced over at Santana hesitantly. "Unless two girls can make babies, too, it has to be Artie's," she murmured.

"And have you told Artie?" Holly asked.

"No, I… the closest I came to actually telling him was in glee the other day and I… I couldn't tell him in front of the whole glee club and make it another Quinn disaster," Brittany mumbled, tears tumbling down her cheeks. "I don't… I never wanted this. Not with him. I just… I don't know what to do."

"Honey, you have to take a pregnancy test or go to a doctor to make sure you actually are pregnant," Holly said gently, grasping Brittany's arm lightly. "Sometimes a woman's cycle can be irregular when something particular stressful happens or can just get out of whack. There's no need to make a fuss about nothing."

"So I could not be pregnant?" Brittany asked hopefully.

Holly was hesitant. "That's… definitely a possibility," she said carefully. "How late are you?"

"A month and a half," Brittany answered, her eyes still shining with hope. Santana felt a sinking sensation in her stomach.

"Brittany… if you're that late, then there isn't a very likely chance you aren't pregnant," Holly said, and the hope in Brittany's eyes died. "It's a possibility, but it's very slight. And even if you aren't pregnant, it would be a very good idea for you to go to a doctor because there could be something very wrong."

"I don't… I don't know what to do," Brittany whispered.

"How about I go out and get a pregnancy test on my lunch break and we can do all of this before school ends," Holly suggested gently with an encouraging smile. "I will do everything in my power to make this easier on you, okay? And I'm sure Santana is with me, as well."

Santana nodded and gave Brittany a strained smile.

"You know what?" Holly asked. "My temporary office is right through that door there and there's a bathroom in there. How about you go get yourself cleaned up and calmed down? I'm sure you'll feel a little bit better afterwards."

Brittany sniffled and nodded, wiping her eyes on her sleeve before slowly turning towards Holly's office and slipping inside. Santana watched her with a sorrowful expression on her face, turning back to Holly once the door clicked shut.

"Please tell me there's a chance she's not pregnant," Santana said, her eyes pleading.

Holly sighed. "I don't want to give you a false hope," she murmured, shaking her head. "Sometimes a woman's cycle adjusts, but that's more slowly and doesn't… I mean, some women… no, unless there's something drastically wrong, Brittany's pregnant."

The Latina swallowed and looked down the empty hall, willing the tears welling up in her eyes to disappear. "She doesn't deserve it," she murmured. "Of all the girls who could get pregnant, she deserves it the least. She's so… innocent and naïve and I don't want that to be ruined."

"Santana, look at me." The Latina turned her head and looked into Holly's eyes. "I know this isn't easy on you, but Brittany really needs a loyal friend right now. Someone she's comfortable with calling at all hours of the night, bunking out with if things get stressful at home, and running to if she has a problem. She needs someone she can rely on. Can you do that for her?"

"Yes," Santana said, nodding with conviction.

"It's okay to feel confused," Holly murmured as tears sprung into Santana's eyes. "You don't have to be strong all the time. It would be good for you to have someone to lean on and to go to when life is getting a little too hard for you. Brittany is going to need someone, true, but it doesn't all have to be on you."

"I don't understand!" Santana cried, looking away from Holly with tears streaming down her face. "Why didn't she tell me before? A month and a half! And I've been such a… such a _bitch_ to her and all this time she's been carrying around this secret…. What did she do to deserve this?"

Holly stepped forward with her arms outstretched and Santana collapsed into her, sobs shaking her body. The older blonde rubbed her back comfortingly. "Sometimes the most amazing people in the world have the worst things happen to them," she murmured, resting her chin on top of Santana's head. "And there's nothing we can do about it but get through it and look forward."

Sobs continued to shake Santana's body as she buried her face in the crook of Holly's neck, attempting to muffle the sounds escaping her mouth. "I just… I love her so much," she cried. "And I… because stupid Artie… I'll never be with her."

"Don't think that," Holly whispered, pulling away and looking Santana in the eye. "Look at Quinn. She had a baby with Puck and in no way are they together. And from what I've seen and heard, you've been with Brittany a lot longer than Artie has. Artie doesn't know about this. _You_ do. She trusted _you_ enough to tell you about this. And I think you should take that for what it's worth."

Santana sniffed, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt. "You really think she loves me more than she loves Artie?" she asked in a small voice.

"I can't guarantee anything," Holly said honestly. "But I think she really loves you." She rubbed Santana's shoulder comfortingly.

The door to Holly's office opened and Brittany emerged, her eyes still a little puffy, but her makeup fixed and her hair neatly parted and brushed. Santana moved towards her and Brittany looked uncertainly at her, studying her face, before the Latina wrapped her arms around the blonde's waist and hugged her tightly.

"Guys, I can't really get you out of the rest of your classes," Holly said. "I know it really sucks, but not only am I just a substitute, but I'm a substitute for the sex education teacher, meaning I get even less respect than other substitutes. I can write you guys passes to your next classes, but I can't excuse you from all of them."

The Latina took a deep breath and nodded as she stepped back from Brittany. "That's okay because we have our last two classes together," she said, smiling comfortingly at her best friend. "We have Spanish and Glee, and I don't think Mr. Schuester will mind very much if we aren't paying attention since we're both fluent in Spanish and we don't really do much in Glee except sing background."

She reached out her hand and laced her fingers together with Brittany's. "Everything is going to be okay," she whispered.

* * *

><p>Santana sat in a desk in the Sex Education room, her elbows leaning on the desktop and her head held in her hands. It had been twenty minutes since Holly had come back from the store with three pregnancy tests, twenty minutes since she had taken Brittany to the teacher's bathroom for some privacy, twenty minutes since her best friend had told her that she wanted to do this alone.<p>

Or, rather, without Santana, because Brittany had specifically asked Holly to come with her because she didn't know how to decipher the instructions on the boxes.

Santana had always been the one to help Brittany.

There were footsteps in the hallway and Santana looked up from the desk, recognizing the loud clacking of heels combined with the light patter of feet against tile. She stood up slowly as the footsteps slowed and stopped, listening to the low murmurs just outside the room.

Then Brittany appeared in the doorway, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach and her eyes focused on the floor. She stopped just over the threshold, her breath whistling through her nose as she obviously tried to keep herself from breaking down.

"Britt?" Santana whispered, taking a step forward and reaching out to the blonde.

"Don't."

The Latina retracted her hand quickly, stung by the sharpness of Brittany's tone. She looked past the blonde to see Holly standing in the hallway shaking her head regretfully.

"Do you… do you want me to take you home?"

"I don't want to go back to my house."

Santana sucked in a deep breath. "You're sleeping over tonight," she said decisively. "We'll get ice cream and pizza and stop at Blockbuster to rent a bunch of movies and we'll just have a girls' night in. And we don't have to go to school tomorrow."

"I don't know if I want to."

"Britt, don't… don't shut me out. Please."

"Why?" Brittany asked angrily, looking up to glare at Santana. "You've been shutting me out for as long as we've been friends. Why is it that you're allowed to keep all your secrets and I'm not allowed to try to keep something to myself?"

The Latina stepped back, tears welling up in her eyes as she crossed her arms protectively over her chest. She focused her attention anywhere except Brittany. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "You're right. We'll do what you want to do." A tear trickled down her cheek and she turned away from Brittany, wiping at her face furiously to hide the fact that she was crying from the blonde.

"No, no, San, don't cry," Brittany said, stepping forward and turning Santana around. She pressed her hands on either side of Santana's face, wiping her tears away with the pads of her thumbs. "Please don't cry."

"How am I supposed to not cry?" Santana whimpered, looking pleadingly into Brittany's eyes. "I can't do anything right. God damn, this is all my fault."

She pulled away from Brittany and stumbled across the room, steadying herself on a desk as she breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself. Brittany's footsteps were soft as she walked toward her and the weight of her hand on Santana's shoulder was comforting.

"If I had just stopped being such a fucking wimp and told you how I feel, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't be with Artie, this whole situation wouldn't have occurred, and I wouldn't be crying like a baby right now."

"This isn't your fault." Brittany's voice was stern and commanding, a tone Santana rarely heard from the usually cheerful blonde. "I mean, yeah, it would have been nice for you to tell me how you felt a little earlier, but what I did was wrong. I shouldn't have started dating Artie to make you jealous. It only hurt people."

They were both quiet.

Then Santana turned around to face Brittany, her eyes searching the blonde's face. "Are you… are you pregnant?"

Brittany sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, closed her eyes, and nodded.

"Why didn't you want me to come with you when you were taking the tests?"

"Because I didn't want you to be disappointed if I was. That I am," Brittany whispered, keeping her eyes tightly closed.

"Brittany, open your eyes," Santana murmured.

The blonde slowly opened her eyes, revealing the teary blue from beneath her eyelids. Santana reached up with her hand and caressed Brittany's cheek, stepped closer to the blonde, pressed their foreheads together, and stared straight into Brittany's eyes.

"I could never, _ever _be disappointed with you," she whispered meaningfully. "No matter where this takes us, you will always be the most important person in my life. You're so much more than a best friend to me and I will do anything within my power to show you that I love you more than anyone else ever could."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Brittany leaned into Santana's touch and began to cry. There weren't gut-wrenching sobs, high-pitched wails, or even small whimpers. Silent tears trailed down her face, eliciting pity and sorrow from Santana. Out of all the times she had ever experienced a sad Brittany, this had to be the worst.

* * *

><p>"I'm going to tell my parents."<p>

Santana looked up from her history book to see Brittany staring determinedly at the wall. It had been three weeks since she had officially confirmed she was pregnant with a doctor's visit and she had been sick all hours of the day. They had had great difficulty keeping everything hidden from Brittany's parents and Brittany ended up keeping a near-permanent residence at Santana's house.

"I think that would be a good idea," Santana said slowly.

"Do you think they're going to be mad?"

The Latina was quiet for a moment, choosing her words carefully before replying. "I don't think they'll be angry," she said cautiously. "I think they'll be… upset because this happened to you. They don't want you to have to go through all this because they love you."

"I think we should apologize to Quinn."

"And why the hell should I apologize to her?" Santana demanded, completely abandoning her history book as she sat up.

"Because we weren't there for her when this was happening last year," Brittany said quietly. She bit her lip nervously as she stared down at her hands. "I mean, Santana… I don't know what I would do without you, without anyone there to tell me what to do. At first I thought… I thought…."

Santana's eyes widened in realization. "You thought I was going to ditch you like we ditched Quinn," she whispered.

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, and I was scared because… you're my best friend, San, no matter what happens. And Quinn must have felt so lost without anyone to talk to and I didn't want to feel like that and so I just kept it to myself…."

The blonde collapsed in tears and Santana threw herself across the room, gathering Brittany in her arms and rocking her back and forth.

"I would never, ever leave you," Santana murmured in Brittany's ear. "And I'm sorry that I ever made you think I would. You're right; we need to apologize to Quinn. I never realized how… how horrible it must have been for her to go through that and not even have her best friends there for her."

They sat there like that for a long time, with Santana holding Brittany close to her chest with her face buried in Santana's neck.

"Do you think I should tell Artie?"

Santana sucked in a deep breath. "Any rational person would tell you yes, especially with what happened after the whole Quinn-Finn-Puck thing last year. But, honestly, I don't think he's going to help the situation at all. I think he's going to bitch and moan about how he's going to be a father and how he can't possibly provide for a child because he's just a junior in high school."

"So you don't think I should tell him," Brittany said, pulling away from Santana to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt. She crossed her arms over her chest protectively and kept her gaze focused on the floor.

"I hate this."

Brittany looked up. "What?"

"I hate what we've become," Santana said, throwing her arms wide to gesture encompass the whole room, the whole world. "We used to be best friends, Britt. We used to tell each other everything. And now I've become so much of a bitch that I've scared you into keeping your secrets from me, secrets you shouldn't have to keep to yourself. And I've become so… _attached_ to my image that I can't even be true to myself."

"It's okay to be afraid," Brittany whispered, looking into Santana's eyes. "I mean, I'm scared. Just because I'm scared doesn't mean that you can't be scared, too. Rachel was talking to me the other day about relationships and she said that in order to make a relationship work, both people have to put in an equal amount of effort."

Santana snorted. "So Berry said something halfway-smart for once."

"San, I think the reason our friendship isn't working is because you're taking too much responsibility," Brittany explained, ignoring Santana's attempt to change the subject. "You think that I can't take anything, so you try to protect me from everything. You can't do that, Santana. It isn't possible."

"It's not that I don't think you can!" Santana exclaimed, surprising Brittany. "It's that I don't want you to have to. I don't want to see you hurt or struggling or…."

"Sometimes we need to hurt and struggle, San," Brittany whispered. "How are we supposed to grow if we don't?"

"When did you get so smart, Britt?" Santana asked with a small smile.

Brittany shrugged and smiled as Santana leaned over to pull her into a hug.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Quinn, can I talk to you?" Santana asked as everyone moved to leave after glee was over. The former head cheerleader looked at her skeptically before nodding, seeing the serious expression on Santana's face.<p>

"What…?" Brittany asked.

"Britt, go on out to the car," Santana instructed gently. "I'll meet you out there, okay?"

Brittany looked at Santana hesitantly before nodding and walking slowly out of the room behind everyone else, trailing Artie closely. Santana watched her closely before turning to Quinn, who was still seated in the second row of chairs. The room was eerily quiet and the only sound Santana could hear was the loud thumping of her own heart.

"You wanted to talk to me?" Quinn asked.

"Um, yeah, I just…." Santana trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

"Santana, what happened to us?" Quinn asked, breaking the silence as she stood. Santana looked up at her, surprised. "We used to be best friends: you, me, and Brittany. The Unholy Trinity."

The two girls smiled together at the nickname.

"We did everything together, from sleepovers to family picnics to Cheerios. Then…."

"Then you got pregnant," Santana whispered, her eyes connecting with Quinn's. "And I became a bitch."

"Yeah," Quinn said quietly, averting her gaze. "That."

The Latina took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

Quinn looked up, confused. "What?"

"I abandoned you when I needed you the most," Santana explained. "Yeah, you slept with my on-again, off-again boyfriend, but… I still should have been there for you. Or at least have let Brittany be there for you. But I was selfish and I was a bitch and I decided that if we weren't best friends, then no one could be best friends. So I made your life as miserable as I possibly could."

"You did a pretty good job of it, too," Quinn laughed.

"Please don't joke about this," Santana said seriously. Quinn stopped laughing. "We… I was so horrible to you. And right when you needed it the most."

"Santana, I would have done the same thing…" Quinn started.

"No, because I still would have had Brittany," Santana said, her eyes pleading for Quinn to understand. "We were always closer, and we all knew that if something happened, Britt and I would stick together. And you trusted us not to leave you out. But we abandoned you when you needed us the most."

"Is there something going on, Santana?" Quinn asked worriedly.

"I just…."

"Artie, please don't do this!"

Santana and Quinn turned to see Artie in the doorway, an expression of anger on his face.

"You did this!" he yelled, pointing a finger at Santana. "You knew you could get between us. You were too much of a jealous bitch to let her have a happy relationship with someone who wasn't you, so you went and ruined it. Just because you don't have a heart and can't love someone doesn't mean you have to go around ruining everyone else's lives, Santana."

"Wait, what?" Santana asked as Brittany appeared behind him.

"You made her break up with me!"

"Why are you breaking up with him?" Santana asked, her eyes wild with confusion. "Brittany, don't do this."

"But I can't," Brittany cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Santana, I can't do it with him. I just can't."

The Latina rushed forward and pulled Brittany into her arms as the blonde stumbled forward, holding her as sobs shook her body.

"Wait, what the hell is going on here?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah, I want to know what's going on here, too," Artie said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Brittany just sobbed harder.

"She's pregnant, okay?" Santana said, stunning both Artie and Quinn into silence. "Brittany is pregnant and she doesn't know what to do, so I'm trying to help her out here. But it doesn't really help when people go around accusing me of trying to break her and her boyfriend up."

"How long?" Quinn asked quietly.

"A little over two months," Santana answered just as quietly.

"Who's the father?"

Santana turned to Artie as Brittany's shoulders shook harder. "What?"

"I asked who the father is," Artie repeated firmly. "Because there's no possible way that it's me because we always used birth control…."

"Are you an idiot?" Santana asked incredulously. "Just because you use birth control doesn't mean there's no possible way a girl can't get pregnant. And you're the only other person she's had sex with who's able to get her pregnant."

"And who else has had sex with her?" Artie asked accusingly.

"We are not having this discussion right now," Quinn cut in sharply. "We can discuss this later, but Brittany is upset right now and we don't need to be upsetting her more. Who else knows, Santana?"

"Miss Holliday," Santana whispered. "That's it. Britt wanted to tell her parents, but she hasn't gotten around to it yet. She's been to the doctor's once and Miss Holliday paid for it when we promised to pay her back. We weren't planning on telling anyone else at least until after we told her parents."

"I didn't want this to happen," Brittany sobbed. "Quinn, I promise, I didn't do it on purpose."

"Oh, sweetie, I know, I know," Quinn soothed, walking forward and taking Brittany into her arms. Santana stepped back, watching awkwardly as Quinn stroked Brittany's hair and rocked her back and forth.

"_Talk to Artie in the hall_," Quinn mouthed to her over Brittany's shoulder.

Santana sighed and motioned for Artie to follow her out of the room. He gave Brittany one last longing glance before rolling out into the hall. The Latina gently closed the door and walked a little way down the hall, slipping her hands in her pockets as she stopped and stared down at the tiled floor.

"You know, I never told her to break up with you," she finally said. "Actually, if she had asked me, I would have told her not to." She turned around to face Artie. "You're better for her, and I'm not going to deny that. I'm a bitch and I know it. I'm horrible at relationships and I've treated her like shit ever since we became friends. I take advantage of her. It's not that I want to, but it's that I do it with everyone who gets that close to me."

Artie sighed. "That's not true."

She looked at him incredulously.

"You do things for her that no one else would ever do for her," Artie explained. "Stuff that not even I do for her. You listen to her when she has crazy ideas and dreams and you take her seriously. Whenever she says something that's wrong, you don't laugh at her. You tell her that she's wrong, what the correct answer is, and then make sure she doesn't feel bad about herself."

"If you think so highly of me, then why are you so against me being with Brittany?" Santana asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Because Brittany is such an amazing person," Artie said. "I mean… not only is she gorgeous, but she's insanely smart. And… well, I kind of want her for myself. Plus, when two girls in a row break up with me for someone else, it makes me look kind of bad."

Santana looked at him, squinting her eyes. "Are you kidding me?" she asked. "You're doing this for yourself? What about her and what she wants?"

He shrugged. "Doesn't she just want the sex?"

She clenched her jaw angrily and tightened her fists at her side to keep herself from punching Artie in the face. "You don't know Brittany at all," she whispered. "I don't understand how you could have been dating her for so long and you don't know who she is."

"Well…."

"You spend all your time playing stupid video games to pay attention to her," Santana growled. "Do you know she's come over to my house after your supposed 'dates' crying most of the time because she doesn't think you care about her?"

"What…?"

"I thought that you made her genuinely happy, though, so I didn't say anything," Santana snapped. "I love her, but I want her to be happy, so I didn't tell her to break up with you. I didn't ask her to be with me until a couple weeks ago just before she told me she was pregnant. And do you know what she told me? She said she could never break your heart."

He stared at her incredulously.

"And you know what?" she asked. "I think you've already broken hers."

"She never loved me," he snarled. "You know what she said the first time we did it? That the only reason we would be having sex was because I wanted to get over Tina and she wanted to make you jealous. Everything she's done is for you, and you don't even have the decency to realize that."

"She _did _love you," Santana yelled. "She loved you enough to try to not break your heart. She loved you enough to not break up with you to be with me. She loved you enough to try to spare you the worry of having a kid when you're in high school. Artie, you don't even realize how much she loves you."

"And you don't realize how much she loves you, either, so I guess we're even," Artie snapped.

There was a pause.

"Can we… can we at least be friends?" Artie asked timidly.

"Are you, like, bipolar or something?" Santana asked. "One minute you're yelling at me, the next you're quavering in fear. Besides, you should know by now that I'm just as vulnerable and weak as the rest of the kids in glee club."

"I just found out that I'm having a kid," Artie defended. "I think I'm allowed to have mood swings."

"True."

"So can we be friends?" he asked.

Santana looked at him. "No," she said. "We will never be friends because both of us are hurting too much. You hate me because you never fully had the attention of your girlfriend because of me, and I hate you because you took the love of my life from me and are having a child with her. The most we will ever be able to do is tolerate each other. I'll refrain from throwing you in the dumpster and calling you names, and you'll refrain from telling everyone I'm a bitch behind my back. And we'll only do it for Brittany."

He nodded. "Fair enough," he murmured.

"And, just warning you, I will be at every doctor's appointment, every shopping trip, and every consultation," Santana said. "I will be by Brittany's side every step of the way and there is nothing you can do about it. If you try to protest it, I will make things very difficult for you."

"Understandable," he whispered, casting his eyes to the ground.

She sighed. "You'll be fine," she murmured.

"It's not me I'm worried about," he said. Artie raised his eyes to meet Santana's. "It's her I'm worried about."

Santana looked at the closed door behind which Quinn was still comforting Brittany. "Me, too," she whispered. "Me, too."

* * *

><p>"Mom, Dad, can I… can I talk to you?" Brittany asked hesitantly.<p>

Santana looked away from the TV to glance at Brittany's nervous face before finally settling on the confused expressions on Mr. and Mrs. Pierce's faces. She reached from Brittany's hand and squeezed it encouragingly as she laced their fingers together.

"Of course, honey," Mrs. Pierce answered smoothly. "You can tell us anything. You know that we love you no matter what."

Brittany sucked in a shuttering breath.

"Girls, we know," Mr. Pierce said, and Brittany's eyes widened. "You can have expected to hide it for too long."

"Why didn't you say anything, then?" Brittany asked.

"We thought it would be better if you girls came to us in your own time and told us," Mrs. Pierce said with a small smile on her face. "But we're proud of you for being brave and coming to us like this." She looked pointedly at Santana and Brittany's entwined hands.

"Mom, you do… you know that this doesn't have anything to do with me and Santana, right?" Brittany asked slowly. "I'm… I'm pregnant."

Mr. and Mrs. Pierce stared at them.

"Mom? Dad?" Brittany asked, tears in her eyes. "Say something. Please?"

"Honey…" Mrs. Pierce whispered, shaking her head.

"Mommy, Daddy, please," Brittany begged.

"Brittany, come here," Mrs. Pierce said in a wavering voice, holding her arms out. Brittany sniffled and rushed to her, burying her face in Mrs. Pierce's shoulder, sobs shaking her body as she cried. Mr. Pierce wrapped his arms around his wife and daughter, holding both of them close.

"It's going to be okay," Mrs. Pierce whispered. "You're going to be okay." She looked at Santana, a meaningful look on her face. "Everything is going to be okay."

* * *

><p>Quinn walked into Brittany's bedroom with a big basket full of nail polish. She set it down on the floor and sat down next to Brittany as Santana opened her eyes and looked at them from her place on the bed. Brittany was leaning back against the edge of the bed on the floor, one hand resting on her slightly swollen stomach, the other fiddling with the dial on her radio.<p>

"We're doing our nails tonight," Quinn announced cheerily. "I ordered pizza and I have movies and it's going to be a girl's night in. No school tomorrow and summer next week. We're celebrating."

"Pizza?" Brittany asked excitedly, sitting up a little straighter as she stopped fiddling with the radio. "With pineapple and tomato and black olives and sardines and onions and peppers?"

"Of course," Quinn said, a small smile on her face as she rolled her eyes. Santana made a face. "Come on, you're the one who introduced sardines to her, Santana. She wouldn't have that craving if it wasn't for you."

"She didn't even like it," Santana protested. "It was, like, three and a half years ago. How was I supposed to know it would be one of her pregnancy cravings?"

"It tastes good," Brittany chirped. "And Swedish fish ice cream?"

"No," Quinn said slowly.

Brittany started to pout.

"I can go get some," Santana said quickly, sitting up. Quinn shot her a _you're-so-whipped_ look as she stood up.

"Thank you, Santana!" Brittany cheered, her eyes brightening.

"No problem," Santana mumbled as she stood up and slipped on a pair of flip-flops. "What size do you want?"

"Um, maybe a… oh!"

Brittany's hand flew to her stomach and her eyes widened. Both Quinn and Santana rushed to her side.

"What's wrong?" Santana asked. "Is it the baby? Are you hurting? Is…?"

The blonde took one of Santana's hands and set it on her stomach, a small smile playing on her lips as Santana's eyes widened at the tiny kick under her hand.

"Is that…?" Santana whispered.

The smile on Brittany's face widened as she nodded, and tears sprung to Santana's eyes. Santana fumbled for Brittany's other hand and she squeezed it tightly as the baby kicked again.

Quinn looked on silently, an understanding smile on her face.

* * *

><p>"I swear, Santana, you're more of a father to this baby than Artie is," Quinn insisted as Santana scanned through the parenting section of the bookstore. "I mean, every time I've seen Artie, all I've heard him talk about is how hard it's going to be for him to take care of this kid. And he doesn't even have to live with it!"<p>

"Her, Quinn, _her_," Santana corrected. "The baby is a girl. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Case and point," Quinn replied as Santana picked a book up off the shelf and started to look through it. "Has Brittany even decided whether or not she's going to keep the baby? I thought she was going to give it up for adoption."

"No, her parents want her to," Santana muttered. "She hasn't decided yet. I think… if she does put the baby up for adoption, it's going to be an open adoption so she can visit and stuff. She wants to be part of her life."

"Have you guys chosen names yet?"

Santana sighed as she set the book back down on the shelf. "The baby isn't mine. I have nothing to do with the name-choosing process. That's between Brittany and Artie."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Like I said before, you're more of a father to that baby than Artie is," she said. "Brittany takes you're advice ten times more seriously than she takes Artie's, and you know she would probably name the baby anything you wanted to name her."

"I…."

"She loves you, Santana," Quinn said, grabbing the brunette by the elbow and turning her around so they were facing each other. "She loves _you_. Not Artie. And I know you love her, too. We all know it. So why don't you get your head out of your ass and gather up the guts to ask her out?"

"Since when did the conversation change from baby names to mine and Brittany's relationship?" Santana asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Since she's been dropping hints right and left, you idiot!" Quinn hissed. "She's been waiting this whole time for you to ask her out because she's too afraid to put herself out there. All that shit you fed her about how 'sex isn't dating' made her afraid of taking your guys' relationship to the next step. She's afraid, Santana."

Santana clenched her jaw and looked around the bookstore before grabbing Quinn's wrist and pulling her toward the back of the store and into the bathroom. Letting go of Quinn, she bolted the door shut and sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she leaned against the door for support.

"Why are you being so stubborn?" Quinn asked.

The brunette whirled around to face her. "Has it ever occurred to you that I'm scared, too?" she asked. "That Brittany isn't the only vulnerable person in this relationship?"

Quinn stared at her.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I already did admit to her that I love her? That I already asked her to be with me?" she asked, her voice wavering. "Has it occurred to you that maybe she shot me down so she could be with Artie? Because of this baby?"

"Santana…."

"I just _can't_, Quinn. I can't risk it again. Brittany is having a baby with Artie; not with me. The best thing for the both of us is for me to just back off and be her best friend right now. She doesn't need any more complications."

The blonde nodded. "I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching forward and grasping Santana's shoulder comfortingly as the brunette crossed her arms over her chest protectively. "I didn't know… Brittany never told me any of that."

"I know that I'm a bitch, Quinn," Santana whispered, her eyes tearing up. "I know I take advantage of people and make fun of them when they're vulnerable, but I would never, _ever_ do that to Brittany. She means too much to me. I want to make sure everything… everything has to be sorted out before anything can happen between me and Brittany."

Quinn tilted her head as she looked at Santana inquisitively. "You really do love her, don't you?"

Santana sniffled and nodded.

"Oh, Santana," Quinn said as Santana started to cry. She pulled Santana forward into a hug and rubbed comforting circles on her back. "Why didn't you say anything?"

The brunette muttered something indecipherable into Quinn's shoulder.

"I know, honey, it's going to be okay," Quinn whispered.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and angry yelling. Santana sniffled again and pulled away from Quinn.

"Do you think we should get out of here before some angry eighty-year-old lady knocks down the door and tries to strangle us?" Santana asked, wiping her eyes with the edge of her sleeve.

"That'd probably be a good idea," Quinn agreed.

Santana pulled back the bolt and opened the door to see an old lady waving a cane in the air angrily. The two girls looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

* * *

><p>"But I don't understand, Santana. How am I supposed to look smoking hot if I can't even fit into any of my old clothes?"<p>

Brittany was on the verge of tears and Santana was doing her best to prevent her from crying. The blonde had just discovered none of her clothes fit her and it was the first day of their senior year. She had been wearing athletic shorts and t-shirts all summer because they were more comfortable and Santana had been trying to avoid this for as long as possible.

"Honey, you're the hottest girl at school," Santana assured her gently. "You could be wearing a trash bag and every other girl at school would be jealous of how smokin' hot you are."

"Promise?" Brittany asked, lip trembling dangerously.

"Pinky promise," Santana said, linking their pinkies and giving Brittany a small, reassuring smile. Brittany smiled back and tightened her hold on Santana's pinky.

"But what am I gonna wear?"

"Remember last week when Quinn brought all of her old clothes by in that cardboard box and said you could have them?" Santana asked, and Brittany nodded. "Well, she remembered that when she was pregnant, you said that you liked some of her clothes. We can mix and match your clothes and hers until we can go on an official shopping trip."

"Really?" Brittany asked excitedly. "You're gonna take me shopping?"

Santana sighed. She hated shopping. "Of course, Britt. Anything for you."

The blonde squealed in delight and bounced over to the box of clothes that had been pushed to the corner of her room. Santana sighed in relief as she watched Brittany pulling out clothes, making a complete mess of the room the brunette had cleaned just the day before.

"As long as there's no crying," Santana whispered to herself as she moved to help Brittany sort through the clothes.

* * *

><p>Santana spun in the combination for her locker and it clicked open. She lifted the latch and opened the door to reveal the emptiness inside. Sighing, she heaved her books from where she had set them on the ground to the bottom of her locker, already regretting the heavy load of classes she had saddled herself with this year. She had done it because Brittany was in all of those classes and she needed to get assignments and help her with homework when she had the baby in November.<p>

A small smile wormed its way onto Santana's face as a folded piece of paper fluttered to the ground from her book bag and she bent down to pick it up. She unfolded it and gazed down at the sonogram of Brittany's baby before sticking it to the inside of her locker door with a magnet left over from the year before.

"Hey, why were you late this morning?" Quinn asked, appearing at Santana's elbow.

The brunette jumped in surprise. "Oh my God, Quinn, you can't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry," Quinn muttered. "I thought you saw me coming."

"Yeah, well, I didn't," Santana said defensively. "And the reason we were late this morning was because Brittany almost had a breakdown when she found out she couldn't fit into any of her clothes from last school year. She thought people wouldn't think she was hot anymore."

"You should have called me," Quinn said. "How bad was it?"

"I have to take her shopping," Santana muttered, turning back to her locker and straightening out her books. "Of course, as long as she's happy, I'm fine."

"Do you hear yourself?" Quinn laughed. "You sound like an unwilling husband."

"Shut up!" Santana hissed, turning to look around the hallway to make sure no one heard. "Do you really think that's the way she wants people to look at us? Like she got pregnant then broke up with Artie so she could have a kid with me?"

Quinn sighed. "Santana, what is this about?"

"Nothing, I just…." Santana turned back to her locker. "I feel like if I don't protect her, Britt's just going to fade away. She's so innocent, Quinn, and then she had this horrible thing happen to her and I don't know what I'm going to do if…." She buried her face in her hands.

"Santana, you don't have to do this by yourself," Quinn said. "Brittany's got plenty of friends who are more than willing to help her out. Her parents are there for her, her teachers are there for her… it's not your burden to bear."

"What if it was me?"

The blonde stared at her for a moment. "What?"

"I said, what if it was me?" Santana asked, lifting her head from her hands. "I mean, out of the three of us, what are the chances that I would be the only one who didn't end up getting pregnant? After all, I'm the one who's had the most sex."

"I… don't… understand," Quinn said slowly.

Santana grabbed Quinn's wrist and pulled her into a nearby classroom, shutting the door behind them. "Think about if I was the one who was pregnant right now instead of Brittany," she said, her eyes hard as they connected with Quinn's. "Or if Puck had gotten _me_ pregnant instead of you."

"I'm still not getting it, Santana."

"There wouldn't be anyone there for me," Santana hissed. "Brittany's got everyone fucking wrapped around her pinky finger and she doesn't even know it. And even after the whole Finn-Puck baby debacle, you had a ton of people who were more than willing to help you out. But if it had been me… I would be alone."

"That's not true," Quinn protested weakly.

Santana laughed humorlessly. "Come on, you have to admit that no one likes me," she said. "If I had gotten pregnant instead of you, you would have done the same thing as I did and completely ignored me. No one would have been sympathetic. It would have been, 'Well, that's what she gets for sleeping around.' And you know how my parents would have reacted."

"You would have had Brittany," Quinn said confidently.

"But would I have?" Santana asked. "You know how much of a bitch I am. Look at how I treated her after she got together with Artie. We barely even talked for weeks. Can you imagine how pissed off I would have been, how much I would have tried to push her away?"

"But that's not the issue, here," Quinn said, shaking her head. "Brittany is the one who's pregnant, not you."

"What if I lose her?" Santana asked quietly as she looked at Quinn insecurely.

"You won't," Quinn said, shaking her head. "Now come on. Brittany's probably wondering where we are and is going to start hyperventilating if we don't get there soon."

* * *

><p>"I want to name the baby Mayra."<p>

It was out of the blue and Santana sat stunned on Brittany's bed for a few moments before she responded.

"Britt, that's my middle name," she said slowly.

"I know that, silly," Brittany said, rolling her eyes as she reached across the bed for Santana's hand. "Mayra Susan Pierce. That way, she's named after my two favorite people: you and my mom."

Tears prickled Santana's eyes and she looked away. "What about Artie?"

"What about him?" Brittany asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Doesn't he get a say in the name?" Santana asked. "I mean, he _is_ the father, and he's going to be involved in her life, isn't he?"

Brittany was quiet for a moment. "I don't know," she whispered. "That's his choice, not mine."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm giving the baby up for adoption," Brittany said, raising her eyes to meet Santana's. "My mom's arranged it to be an open adoption so I can visit Mayra and still be a part of her life, but Artie doesn't know if he wants to do that. He says that it'll hurt too much because, while he's her birth father, he'll never be the one she looks up to."

Santana sucked in a breath and pushed down the words rising in her throat about Artie. "So you've found parents?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Brittany whispered. "Me and my mom met them last weekend. They're nice. Clarisse, the woman, said that I could visit whenever I wanted, as long as it wasn't in the middle of the night and I gave them a heads-up so they knew to be home. They said I get to name her and that they don't want to take her away from me."

"That's nice," Santana whispered, rubbing her thumb lightly over the back of Brittany's hand. "You know, if you… if you wanted me to go with you the first time or something, I would… that'd be okay. I could drive you or whatever. Pick you up. If you wanted."

Brittany smiled on of her Brittany-smiles. "I'd like that a lot."

* * *

><p>"Come on, Santana," Brittany sighed, a hand on her hip. "If we forgot anything, my dad can just come back and get it, okay? And chances are they're going to have it at the hospital gift shop or something."<p>

Santana glances around the room one last time and can't believe that _today is the day_. After the months of crying, food cravings, attempts to get her in bed, good lucks, and showering of gifts, it was finally time for the baby to be born. And she had a feeling she was twice as nervous as Brittany was.

"You're more of a nervous wreck than I am," Brittany muttered, confirming Santana's thoughts as she lifted the overnight bag onto her shoulder and followed Brittany out of her bedroom. "And that's coming from the girl who's actually pregnant and had to sit through every single one of Quinn's horror stories."

"I told you not to do it," Santana said. "But no, Quinn had already gone through it and there must be _something_ she knows to make it easier. Britt, _I_ had nightmares from those stories."

"Yeah, I know, you kept kicking me all night."

"Not my fault!"

"Come on, girls, we have to go," Mr. Pierce said, smiling nervously at them as he gestured to the front door. "Your mother's already in the car, sweetie."

"Dad, I'm fine," Brittany growled as her father attempted to help her out of the house. He gave Santana a wide-eyed look and she just shook her head. It was one of Brittany's irritable days, which had become less and less rare with every day they got closer to the due date.

"I can't wait until this is over," he whispered, rubbing his forehead as he watched Brittany get into the car.

"Me, too."

* * *

><p>All Santana knew was that this wasn't how it was supposed to end.<p>

She slumped against the wall, sliding down to the floor before burying her face in her hands, tears trailing down her cheeks as she struggled to suppress her sobs.

There was supposed to be happiness and tears of joy, balloons and too many teddy bears to choose from. Friends were supposed to swamp the hospital room, wanting to look at the baby, pushing to give Brittany a hug and say congratulations first. Santana was supposed to be watching from the side as Brittany cuddled her baby closer to her and cooed down at the little bundle of joy in her arms.

But that's not how it was.

"Santana?"

Looking up, she saw Mr. Schuester standing a little way down the hall with the entire glee club behind him. They all had gifts or cards and smiles on their faces, which slowly started to fade when they saw Santana on the floor.

"Santana, what is it?"

Her eyes widened and she shook her head as Mr. Schuester approached her and knelt in front of her. He held out his arms and, after a moment of hesitation, Santana threw herself into him, her sobs muffled by his shoulder as she pulled her against his body and attempted to soothe her.

"Santana, what's going on?" he asked gently.

"She's dead."

There were gasps and murmurs.

"There was something wrong from the beginning," Santana cried. "I could tell from the way the doctor was acting, and Brittany could tell, too. And then there was all this… panic before everything got really quiet. I was holding her in my arms. She was so tiny and still… so innocent."

Eyes widened as the glee kids started to realize what Santana was saying.

"How could God let this happen?"

No one could look her in the eye, because no had the answer. And they knew the baby had been just as much Santana's as it had been Brittany's.


	2. Part 2

There's No Stork: Part 2

By: SometimesIWish

"Santana?"

There was a gentle knock on the door before it opened slowly to reveal Quinn and Kurt standing on the threshold of the room. Santana made no indication of their presence, so Quinn stepped into the room with Kurt following close behind.

"I don't understand."

Quinn and Kurt looked at each other.

"Understand what, sweetie?" Quinn asked gently.

"I don't understand how this could happen all of a sudden," Santana whispered, staring straight ahead at the wall. "I mean, we were at the doctor's office the day before and she said everything was fine. Everything was fine! Everything was… everything was fine…." She trailed off and started to cry.

"Oh, sweetie," Quinn murmured, sitting down next to Santana and putting an arm around her shoulders. Santana leaned into her.

"You know what the worst part was?" Santana asked. "When the doctor didn't tell us. She just gave Brittany some medication and said it would induce labor. At first, I thought it was because they wanted her to have the baby since she was already there, but then I saw… I saw the looks she was giving the nurses and the glances they were giving Britt…. God, and then the look of devastation on Brittany's face when the baby didn't cry…."

Kurt and Quinn looked at Santana pityingly.

"You know what she asked me, Quinn? '_San, why isn't she crying? Aren't babies supposed to cry? They're s'posed to cry, right?'_ Artie's eyes looked like they were gonna pop out of his head and he just shook his head, looking at that little girl and then at me, pleading with me to do something. And I couldn't do anything, Quinn. I couldn't do anything."

"I know, honey, I know," Quinn whispered, cradling Santana against her body. "No one blames you."

"And the look on Britt's face when she held her daughter," Santana cried. "She was so tender and careful, as if she was asleep instead of dead. Then she looked at me and she said… she said, _'San, do you want to hold your goddaughter?' _And she handed her to me and I looked down at that little girl… she was so beautiful, Quinn. She looked just like her mama. Just like… like her mama…."

The Latina's eyes fluttered shut and she fell asleep with tears still rolling down her cheeks. Quinn sighed and gently pulled herself away from Santana, lying her back on the bed and pulling back the sheets. She tucked the blankets around Santana's body and stood back, looking down at her friend sadly.

"I don't think she's gotten any sleep," she murmured.

Kurt shook his head. "I don't blame her," he whispered, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. "She's doing a lot better than Artie, though. Puck and Sam are with him right now. And Brittany… Mercedes says she can't even get her to talk. I think they're letting her out of the hospital tomorrow."

"Santana's going to want to be there."

"Is that the best idea?" Kurt asked skeptically. "I mean, this is the first time she's said something other than, _'Get the fuck out, Lady Face,'_ in two days."

"Yeah, well, imagine how she's going to react once she's actually coherent and realizes we knew Brittany was getting out of the hospital and didn't tell her." Kurt made a face. "Exactly. So, for now, I'm just going to let her sleep and try to get her to eat something when she wakes up. I think you should go ahead and check on Brittany. She always liked you the best after Santana. Something about babies and hands…."

Kurt smiled faintly. "Yeah, that," he whispered. He started to walk out of the room, but turned just before the door to see Quinn sitting on the edge of Santana's bed stroking her hair gently.

"Hey, are _you_ going to be okay?" he asked softly.

Quinn sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. "Yeah, I just… they're like my sisters," she choked, wiping at her eyes. "I mean, we had a falling out for a while there, but I love them, you know?"

"Everyone in glee club loves them," Kurt whispered, smiling gently. "Even Santana. They can see that's just a big softie under the tough exterior."

Quinn nodded, smiling through her tears.

"You know what? I think I'll just stay a little longer," Kurt said, closing the door and sitting down next to Quinn. "I've always wanted to see what the inside of Santana's room looked like, and this is a rare opportunity that I probably won't have ever again."

The blonde laughed.

"Plus, I think you need me," he whispered.

"Thanks, Kurt," she whispered, leaning into him.

"No problem."

* * *

><p>"Santana, sweetie? May I come in?"<p>

The Latina didn't respond as the door opened slowly and her mother stepped into her bedroom. As soon as she saw the older woman out of the corner of her eye, she notably stiffened and made it a point to keep her gaze fixed on the stain on the wall from when Brittany accidentally spilled nail polish all over her bedroom.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Her mother sighed. "Quinn called me," she said quietly, sitting down on the bed next to Santana. She tried to set a hand on her daughter's shoulder, but Santana flinched away, so she settled for setting her hands in her lap. "She said that you needed me."

"Yeah, for the past six years of my life," Santana spat, her eyes flashing as she turned to glare at her mother. "Where were you on my first day of middle school? High school? The day I made the cheerleading squad? When I got my boob job over the summer? When I felt like complete _shit_ since I had no parents who cared enough to actually stick around for a couple days?"

"Santana…."

"Just… go away," Santana said, turning back toward the wall. "Apparently I didn't need you then and I definitely don't need you now."

"We talked about this, Santana," her mother said icily. "You, your father, and I talked about it. What it would mean if he took the job in San Francisco and if I accepted the promotion to partner at the law firm. And you were perfectly fine with it."

"I was ten years old!" Santana yelled, shooting to her feet as she turned to scream down at her mother. "You asked me when I was ten years old, and of course I said yes! What ten-year-old doesn't want her parents to leave the house all to her so she can eat whatever she wants and have people over on school nights?

"But, you know what? It gets lonely after a while. Being a kid on your own gets lonely, because there aren't any family dinners, or movie nights, or game nights. There isn't someone to come home to when you get a good grade, or someone to call when you get picked on and have no one else to turn to. You have to protect yourself. And just because you have to do it in your lawyer world doesn't mean that I want to do it on a regular basis in real life!"

Her mother was stunned and her mouth dropped open as she stared as Santana. The young Latina took a step backwards before she turned around and stood staring out her window.

"Is it because you never wanted me?"

The reaction was instant. "Santana, how could you think that? Of course I want you!"

"Mamí, you were in high school," Santana murmured. "No one wants kids in high school."

"Of course no one wants kids in high school," her mother aid gently, and Santana's breath hitched at the admission. "But that doesn't mean I don't want you. _Mija_, I love you, I always have and I always will. Nothing is ever going to change that. I didn't want to have a child in high school, but I have never, _ever_ wished that I didn't have you as a daughter."

There was a moment of silence.

"Britt was pregnant."

"What?" her mother asked, and Santana turned slowly so see her mother's eyes widen with surprise. "Brittany Susan Pierce? Sweet, innocent little Brittany?"

"Yeah," Santana choked, nodding as tears sprung to her eyes and tilting her head down so her mother wouldn't see. "She… she had the baby three days ago." As if she could sense something was wrong, her mother waited for Santana to continue. "It was a stillborn."

"Oh, _dios mio_, is she okay?"

A sob tore out of Santana's throat and, before she could react, her mother's arms were around her, pulling her close to an achingly familiar body. She buried her face in her mother's shoulder as her body shook with sobs. Her mother stroked her hair comfortingly, whispering to her in Spanish and rocking her back and forth like she did when she was a little girl.

"Mamí, I don't know what to do," she cried, her words muffled by her mother's shirt. "She was just so… so _broken_. And I don't know how to fix her."

"Santana, is there something else you want to tell me?"

The young Latina's eyes widen and she takes a step back, out of her mother's arms as she wraps her own around her body. Her eyes skitter around the room, focusing on everything and anything but the eyes boring into her.

"You know you can tell me anything, right, _mija_?"

"I love her, Mamí," Santana whispered, staring down at her feet, her eyes widening with the realization of what she was telling her mother. "I love her so much. As more than a friend. And I'm scared because… I don't know if she's going to be the same after this. I want to help her, but I don't know how to, and all I know is that I love her and there's nothing more in the world that I want but for her to be happy."

Her mother takes Santana's face in her hands, tilting her head up so they were staring into each other's eyes. Her touch is gentle, comforting, and motherly. Something Santana's missed. "I'm so proud of you, _mija_," she whispered, her eyes conveying nothing but love. "You are so brave, and I could ask for nothing more than for you to be you. _Entiende?_"

Santana nodded, tears leaking down her face. She hugged her mother again.

"We'll figure this out, Santana," her mother whispered, burying her face in her daughter's hair. "We'll figure it out."

* * *

><p>Standing in her room, Santana forced herself to look in the mirror and finishing applying her makeup. Honestly, she didn't think she should have, but she didn't know how else to cover up the dark circles around her eyes or the tear tracks marring her skin. She was wearing what she had worn to her grandmother's funeral the year before: a black, knee-length dress that fit her body perfectly and a pair of black heels.<p>

There was a knock on the door and grunted for whoever it was to come in. Kurt slipped inside, shutting the door behind himself, and smiled weakly at Santana.

"Just wanted to let you know that we're here," he said quietly. He was wearing a suit and tie. Nothing dramatic or fashionable, which Santana appreciated because that meant everyone would be focusing on the funeral and not his stylish get-up. "Your mom couldn't drive you to Brittany's house because she got held up at the flower shop. She said she'll meet you at the church."

She didn't say anything.

"Santana?"

"Why do I feel like I'm burying my own kid?"

Kurt sighed. "Because you loved her just as much as Brittany and Artie do," he answered quietly. There was a long pause. "You know, it helps to talk about it."

"Is this how you felt?" Santana asked. "When you lost your mom?"

"It feels horrible," he admitted. "And you know what? It gets worse with the passing time, when you realize everything she's missing out on and what she could have been doing _if only_. But you know what makes it better? Thinking about everything she had."

"But she had _nothing_," Santana cried, turning to Kurt. "She… she didn't even get a _day_, let alone weeks, months, or years!"

"She did have something, though," Kurt said, approaching Santana and taking her hands in his own. "She had Brittany and Artie. And she had _you_. You did everything within your power to make sure that baby was happy, and I'm positive she knew it. She could hear every word you spoke to her, every song you sang to her, and every story you read to her while she was still in Brittany's womb. And that makes all the difference."

"I don't think I'm going to be able to get through this," Santana whispered, pulling her hands out of Kurt's and turning away from him to carefully wipe the tears from her eyes without smearing her makeup.

"Santana, you don't have to be strong all the time," Kurt said, setting a hand on her shoulder and turning her around. He looked into her eyes. "Just because you've been the one protecting Brittany all this time doesn't mean you have to put on an impenetrable armor of bitchiness and never take it off. I've got your back, Santana. You can let it out. You don't have to hide, anymore."

The Latina sucked in a breath in surprise and stared at him with wide eyes. He squeezed her shoulder comfortingly and trailed his hand down her arm to grasp her hand again. He hesitated for a moment before bringing their joined hands to his heart.

"I'm not usually like this," Santana said quietly, tears pooling in her eyes. "I don't… I don't _feel_. But when I'm in glee club, when I'm with you guys, when I'm with _Brittany_… I'm not as threatened."

"That's because, even with all the bitchiness, we love you," Kurt said with a small smile. "You're family."

She let out a shaky breath. "Thanks, Kurt," she whispered. "Hey, do you… do you think you could do something for me today?"

He tilted his head curiously. "That depends on what it is," he said slowly.

"Do you remember that song you sang in glee club when your dad was in the hospital from his heart attack?" Santana asked, her eyes searching Kurt's face hopefully. "The Beatles song? Do you… could you sing that today, for Mayra? I would sing it, but… I don't think I could get through the first verse without bursting into tears and… it would be perfect for her."

"Of course," he whispered, pulling her into a hug as she started to cry.

"Now how about we dry those tears and get you over to Brittany's house?" he asked as he pulled back. "She needs you."

* * *

><p>The sound of leaves rustling on the trees reached Santana's ears as she walked up the sidewalk to Brittany's front door. The usually loud, boisterous house was eerily silent, conveying the mood of everyone inside. A black limousine was parked in the driveway, waiting to take Brittany and her family to the funeral.<p>

Santana knocked on the front door and it almost immediately opened, Mrs. Pierce standing in the doorway wearing a black dress for the funeral. She smiled sadly down at Santana and stepped aside to let her in.

"Are the others coming inside, too?" she asked quietly, her voice hushed as if she was trying not to disturb someone who was sleeping.

"No, I think they're just going to wait outside until we're ready to go," Santana murmured.

"I'm glad you're here," Mrs. Pierce said. "Brittany locked her bedroom door and she won't let anyone in. Mercedes and Tina tried, but they couldn't even get her to say anything. They're in the living room if you want to talk to them."

The Latina sighed. "She feels so guilty," she whispered, tiredly running a hand through her hair. "And she shouldn't because it isn't her fault."

"We've tried telling her that," Mrs. Pierce said, shaking her head. "But she won't listen. She doesn't want to go to the funeral, and I understand that, but if she doesn't go, she's going to regret it for the rest of her life. It's something that only happens once; saying that last goodbye to her daughter could be the thing she needs to get some closure and move on."

"How could she move on from this so quickly, though?" Santana asked, slumping against the wall.

Mrs. Pierce closed the front door and knelt in front of Santana. "I'm not saying she should forget Mayra," she said gently. "Because that's the last thing that should happen. What I'm saying is that she should realize that none of this was her fault; that nothing could have been done to prevent this. And that she should mourn Mayra's death, but also realize that her daughter wouldn't want her to stop her life because this happened."

"I loved her," Santana whispered as tears trailed down her cheeks. She raised her head to meet Mrs. Pierce's eyes, her own burning with honesty and truth. "I love both of them. Mayra _and_ Brittany. And it hurt so much when Mayra… but it hurts so much more, now, that Brittany isn't herself anymore."

"She's never going to be the same Brittany she was before," Mrs. Pierce said. "There will always be a part of her that will be burdened by this, and nothing anyone says or does will be able to change that. I'm just asking you… keep loving her, even if she wasn't the girl she wasn't before."

Santana looked into Mrs. Pierce's eyes with blazing honesty. "I don't think I could ever stop loving her."

* * *

><p>Brittany's door was unlocked when Santana twisted the doorknob. She didn't know if that had been the case all day and Mercedes, Tina, and Brittany's parents just didn't want to invade on the blonde's privacy or if Brittany had seen Santana walk up to the house. Either way, it didn't really matter because Santana was going into Brittany's room whether she liked it or not.<p>

The blonde was sitting on her bed facing her window when her door creaked open and, for a moment, Santana just stood in the doorway, imagining that it was a year and a half ago and she was coming here to get her sweet lady kisses on. But the way Brittany's shoulders were slumped, the way her hair was laying matted and limp on her shoulders, the way she stiffened at the sound of the door opening showed otherwise.

Santana opened her mouth to say something, but no words come out because there was nothing she could do to make it better. For once in her life, she had no idea what to do to make Brittany happy again, and she felt like she was caught in the strong, overpowering current of a river.

So she did the only thing she could do. She stepped forward and knelt in front of Brittany, taking the blonde's cold, limp hands into her own and pressing them to her lips. When Brittany didn't respond to her touch, tears welled up in her eyes and she looked up to see that the blonde hadn't even moved her gaze away from the window.

"Brittany?" she whispered uncertainly. "Britt, it's me… Santana."

There was no response. Santana rose from her kneeling position and sat next to Brittany, pulling the girl into her arms and cradling her as if she were a small child. When the blonde didn't respond at all, Santana let her tears roll hotly down her cheeks, burying her face in Brittany's hair as she began to sob.

Brittany was lost, even to her, and she didn't know if she could ever get her back.

* * *

><p>Santana sat in front of Mayra's gravestone, her legs pulled up to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. It had been a week since the funeral and burial and she had been coming here every day after school. She didn't know why, but she felt a tug in her heart every time that last bell rang at school and there was no one at her locker waiting for her, no one sitting next to her in glee club, no cheerful voice calling her name in the hallway. And this was where that tug pulled her to.<p>

Brittany hadn't come to the cemetery since the funeral. She had been stoic and emotionless through the whole ceremony, not saying a word even when her parents gave her beseeching looks to speak before the ceremony ended. The blonde seemed determined to make a marathon of her silence.

She had quit glee club simply by not coming to practices anymore. And, while they had more than enough members with all the new recruits, her presence was sorely missed. The choir room seemed darker, a little less sunny, and not quite as cheerful. There was less talking and more whispering, and shifty glances were always aimed at the empty seat next to Santana that Brittany had once occupied.

A slight breeze lifted some of Santana's hair into her face and she lifted her hand to push it behind her ear, only to be met with wet skin. It's then that she realized she was crying. She collapsed forward, kneeling in the dirt, her face pressed to the ground as she clutched handfuls of grass, sobs wracking her body as she completely let go.

Because, for this last week and a half, for the first time in her life, Santana hasn't known what to do. She always had an answer to the question, a solution to the problem, but now she was just floundering in deep water, waiting for the lifeboat she knew would never come.

When she left the cemetery, the sun had already set, the stars and moon were in the sky, and the streetlights had been turned on. For a moment, she sat in her car, staring down at the steering wheel and wishing there was someone else here to drive her home because she didn't want the responsibility. She remembered her phone and picked up, disappointment spreading through her body when she saw that Brittany hadn't texted or called. She sent texts to Quinn, Puck, and her parents to tell them that she was fine and that she had been at the cemetery the whole time before dropping the phone on the passenger's seat and putting her key in the ignition.

When she reached the final turn that would bring her to her street, Santana just kept going and took the next right. A minute-and-a-half of driving and she parked outside of Brittany's house, pulling the key from the ignition and staring up at the dark window before getting out of the car.

There's a huge tree in Brittany's front yard that's been there since forever. Santana and Brittany used to climb it when they were kids and pretend they were on another planet or that they were in the jungle with Tarzan and Jane (on Brittany's insistence). When they got older, Brittany would use the longest limb that stretched out to her bedroom window to sneak out at night to Santana's house and Santana would use it to sneak into Brittany's room.

Now, Santana stared up the trunk of the tree before stuffing her keys in her back pocket and grabbing on to the lowest branch. The bark scratched the skin of her palm, but she really didn't give a damn. A few scratches were nothing compared to what she had been through in the past year. She slowly scaled the tree, out of practice since she had been welcomed into Brittany's house at any hour of the day when Brittany was pregnant.

She balanced precariously by Brittany's windowsill and slid her window up with a little difficulty. The lock had never worked for as long as Santana had known Brittany, so that hadn't been something she was worried about. Quietly, so as to not make Brittany's parents aware of her entrance, Santana slipped into the blonde's room and shut the window behind her.

Brittany was sitting in the middle of her bed staring blankly down at a sonogram of Mayra. She was gripping it tightly, her knuckles white from the amount of pressure she was exerting.

Santana was overcome with sorrow and love at the picture before her and she surged across the room, taking Brittany's face in her hands and lifting her head so they were staring each other in the eyes. It was the first time she had touched Brittany and gotten an actual response from her. The blonde stared back at her defiantly, pushing her away when she leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead.

The brunette stared at Brittany in shock, her skin burning where Brittany's hands had pushed her.

"Get out."

Brittany's voice cut through Santana's haze and she stumbled backwards as if the blonde had physically slapped her. Her eyes began to tear up and she didn't even make the connection that these were the first words Brittany had spoken to her.

"Britt…."

"Leave. And don't come back."

So Santana turned around and ran to the door, almost colliding with it as she struggled to twist the knob with a shaking hand. She fled down the stairs, past Brittany's surprised parents, out the front door, and down the sidewalk, not realizing she had left her keys on Brittany's floor and her car in front of her house. All she knew was that Brittany didn't want her anymore.

* * *

><p>Weeks passed and Santana remained the hazy half-world that kept her safe from her own thoughts and from the pitying stares of other people. She walked through the halls as if she were the living dead, her feet dragging behind her, eyes focused on the ground, and books clutched tightly to her chest as if they were a sort of armor. This way, she never saw Brittany.<p>

She knew people were worried about her, deep in her mind, and in her clearer moments she couldn't help but wonder _why_. Before all this happened, no one had liked her. Everyone had hated her except Brittany. And now it was the other way around. Rounds were being made to her house, first Kurt and Mercedes, Quinn and Puck, Rachel and Finn, Mike and Tina, even Artie tagged along every once in a while. Sometimes Santana had dreams that Brittany came, too.

Once, when she was too exhausted to get out of bed in the morning for school, she saw her mother and father standing in the doorway, murmuring to each other under their breaths. She had sat up a little, eager to see her parents together again, but dizziness had overtaken her and she had fallen back on her mattress, her breath leaving her with the impact. Darkness overtook her as she closed her eyes.

* * *

><p>The first sensation that came back to Santana was smell. She knew the second her brain registered the smell that she was in the hospital. It was all too familiar. From when Mayra was born. The visits when Brittany… Brittany.<p>

She opened her eyes and was met with darkness. Something was in her arm and she glanced down to see she had been hooked up to an IV. Needles scare the shit out of her so she looked away quickly before she felt like throwing up. The door is propped open slightly and a sliver of light fell across the bottom of her bed, illuminating the stiff hospital sheets covering her body.

There was a steady beeping from the machine next to her bed and she closed her eyes, willing herself back to sleep. Her breathing evened out and Brittany haunted her dreams.

* * *

><p>"You need to talk to her."<p>

Santana blinked at Quinn in surprise. The blonde had been sitting next to her hospital bed for the past two and a half hours and hadn't said anything at all. She had simply walked into the room, pulled a chair up to the bed, sat down, and pulled out her English book to start her homework

"She's miserable and you're obviously miserable, considering you haven't been eating and you landed yourself in the hospital because of it," Quinn said, not even looked up from her book. "And I'm afraid that she's going to end up here, too, if you don't get her to snap out of it."

"She doesn't want me."

Quinn looked up at her, a single eyebrow raised. "And what makes you think that?"

The Latina hesitated and looked away from Quinn's accusing stare. "I… a couple weeks ago, I went over to Brittany's house and… Quinn, she _pushed me away_. I tried so hard, and she doesn't even want me."

"You tried once, Santana," the blonde said, looking back down at her book. "And, to be honest, I think it was kind of a lame attempt. Yeah, it hurts when the person you love pushes you away, but…."

"You don't understand!" Santana bellowed, tears coming to her eyes as Quinn looked up at her in surprise. "She never pushes me away! Ever! Every time I've been a complete bitch to her, every time I've told her it doesn't mean anything, that it's just sex, every time I've used her and thrown her away, she's _never_ pushed me away. And now… I don't know what to do."

"Santana…."

"Everyone thinks I have all the answers," Santana cried. "But I don't! They think I'm the key to Brittany's lock, but sometimes I understand her just as little as everyone else does. The only difference is that I love her for who she is! I thought she loved me, too, but… how do I fix her when she doesn't want to be fixed?"

Quinn closed her book. "Just talk to her, Santana."

* * *

><p>Santana knocked on Brittany's door and was surprised when it opened, only to have that surprise wiped away when she saw that it was Kurt who had opened it rather than Brittany. He gave her a strained smile and motioned that he wanted to speak to her out in the hallway.<p>

"Hey, how are you doing?" he asked quietly once he had closed the door behind him. "Sorry I didn't come to see you in the hospital, but Brittany… when she heard about it, she was in hysterics. We couldn't get her to calm down. It took me, Tina, Mercedes, and Mike to keep her from destroying her room."

"She… she was upset?" Santana asked, eyes widening in surprise.

He shrugged. "Of course she was," he whispered. "She loves you. How would you react if you found out Brittany was in the hospital?"

"I need to talk to her," Santana said.

She opened the door and walked in to see Brittany sitting in the middle of her bed, once again, as Mercedes babbled on about something, looking desperate as she asked questions and tried to get a response out of Brittany. She looked relieved to see Santana.

"May I talk to Brittany alone?" she asked, her eyes flickering to Brittany's non-responding form. Mercedes nodded and quickly walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Brittany."

There was no response.

"Brittany, I need you to look at me while I'm talking or I'm never coming back," Santana said strongly, her heart aching as she voiced the half-lie. If she didn't get Brittany to respond to her, or if she responded negatively, she probably wouldn't come back. She held her breath as the blonde slowly turned her head toward Santana.

"Everyone's worried about you."

No response.

"But, then again, you wouldn't know that since you block everyone out, anyways."

Now she was trying to get Brittany mad.

Still no response.

"You know what? I don't think they should feel sorry for you," Santana said, internally beating herself up as she spoke the words. "You didn't deserve to have that kid, anyways."

"I know."

Santana's eyes widened with surprise and she stared at Brittany, who was looking up at her with a tearful gaze.

"I didn't deserve the baby and that's why she died," Brittany whispered, tears trickling down her cheeks. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't had sex with stupid Artie then I wouldn't have gotten into this mess. None of this would have happened. I wouldn't have hurt you or Artie…."

"Is that what you really think?" Santana asked incredulously. "That it's your fault Mayra isn't alive?"

Brittany hesitated. "Yeah, I mean… why else would it happen?"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," Santana said, sitting down next to Brittany and taking the blonde's hands in her own. "This is not your fault, do you understand that? Brittany, look at me and tell me that it isn't your fault."

"But it is!" Brittany wailed, collapsing into Santana. "Every night I wished and wished and wished that I wasn't having a baby and… now I don't have a baby! She's dead because I wished for her not to be alive!"

"Brittany, look at me," Santana said softly. "Look at me."

The blonde lifted her head and looked into Santana's eyes.

"This is not your fault," Santana said. "No amount of wishing could have ever made this happen, do you understand? The doctors said that there is nothing you could have done to prevent it from happening. It isn't your fault."

"Promise?" Brittany asked in a quavering voice.

"Promise," Santana whispered.

She collapsed back into Santana, sobs wracking her body as she let out everything she had been holding in. Santana just held her, rubbing comforting circles on her back and stroking her hair as she rocked her back and forth.

Brittany was starting to come back to her.

* * *

><p>The next few days were tough for both Santana and Brittany. Santana had single-handedly broken down the walls Brittany had put up around herself, and now the blonde had to relearn how to deal with everyday things that reminded her of Mayra. She often started crying in the middle of classes or would run to the bathroom and lock herself in a stall when it got to be too much for her.<p>

Santana, on the other hand, had to convince everyone around her that she was fine and that she hadn't become anorexic. Her father had come from Spain when her mother had called him and told her about the situation and neither of her parents believed her when she told them she was okay. They kept tabs on how much she ate and how much she threw away after every meal and she felt like they were trying to get her fat.

"Enough already!" Santana yelled, surprising everyone at the dinner table.

The Lopez's had invited over the Pierce's for dinner one night and everyone had been expressing concern over how much Santana had served herself. She had, at her mother's insistence, had a snack an hour before dinner and wasn't as hungry as she usually was, and now everyone was criticizing her for the amount of food on her plate.

"For the last time, I'm not anorexic!" she yelled, shooting to her feet and knocking her chair to the ground. "I wasn't eating because I was depressed, not because I thought I should lose weight. I'm fine now and I'm eating just as much as I did before, okay?"

She stomped out of the room with everyone staring at her, only to come back a few seconds later to grab her plate and silverware. Brittany stood and followed her, giving an apologetic smile to the rest of the table before leaving.

"Santana," she whispered as she walked into the Latina's room to find her sitting on her bed and staring down dejectedly at her plate. "San, they're all just worried about you. They want you to be okay."

"You don't think I'm anorexic, do you?" Santana asked, turning pleadingly to Brittany. "You know I'm not, right?"

"Of course I do," Brittany said quietly, sitting down next to Santana on the bed and drawing her knees up to her chest. "You didn't eat because you were said about Mayra and how I wasn't talking to you. I know you didn't do it on purpose. You just… forget to eat when you're sad sometimes. It's happened before."

They were both quiet.

"I love you, you know?"

Brittany smiled softly. "I love you, too," she whispered.

"I… I want you to be my girlfriend," Santana said, continuing quickly when Brittany opened her mouth to interrupt. "No, let me finish. I know you're not ready now, with everything that's happened, and I'm not ready either, and we both need to get through this before anything like that happens between us. But, when you're ready, I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold your hand in public and take you out on dates and kiss you when I walk you to your house. I want that for us."

"Me too," Brittany said quietly, lacing her fingers together with Santana's. "And we'll have that. I promise. Just… give me a little more time."

"Take as much time as you need," Santana whispered, kissing Brittany softly on the forehead before snuggling into her.

* * *

><p>They gradually got back into the swing of things, Santana's father finally flying back to Spain when he saw she really wasn't anorexic and Brittany was able to get through classes without crying. Santana convinced Brittany to rejoin glee club.<p>

All the while, Santana was waiting for Brittany.

"Are you ready yet?" she asked.

"Not yet," Brittany answered, taking Santana's hand and rubbing her thumb comfortingly over the smooth skin.

Brittany started dancing again. At first, it was only in Santana's presence when they were in either one of their rooms listening to the radio or Santana's iPod. It started out as head bobbing but quickly morphed into full-out dancing. Santana smiled and watched as Brittany twirled around the room, a smile on her face.

"Are you ready yet?" she asked.

"Not yet," Brittany answered, pulling her up out of her chair and swaying with her to the music.

Then Brittany started to actually sing in glee club, at first only quietly, but then loud enough so everyone else would notice. Mr. Schuester began to give her more solos, both for dancing and singing, and Santana could see that Brittany was beginning to enjoy it again.

"Are you ready yet?" she asked.

"Not yet," Brittany answered, sharing her sheet music with Santana and pressing their shoulders together.

Regionals came and they all sang and danced their way to victory once again, and Brittany did cartwheels and back-flips across the stage, finally landing in front of Santana who just looked on proudly. The glee club had a celebratory pizza party that night and Brittany made one of the blonde, oblivious comments she had been known for before Mayra.

"Are you ready yet?" she asked.

"Not yet," Brittany answered, snuggling closer to Santana as they watched Rachel and Quinn battle each other in karaoke.

"But almost," she whispered so quietly that Santana didn't hear her.

* * *

><p>"Santana?"<p>

"Yeah?"

"I'm ready now."

"For what?"

"To be your girlfriend."

Santana looked up from the sheet music Mr. Schuester had given her and stared at Brittany with wide eyes. They were sitting in their hotel room in New York City getting ready for Nationals while everyone else went to wait in the lobby for the pizza they had ordered.

"Really?" she asked in a whisper.

Brittany nodded and blushed, ducking her head away from Santana's gaze. "Yeah," she murmured. "You've been so amazing with Mayra and everything, and I really love you for that. And for other things, too."

"You're not the only one who lost Mayra," Santana said quietly, and Brittany looked up at her. "I lost her too, you know."

"I know," Brittany said, cradling Santana's face in her hands and bumping their foreheads together. "You're going to make an awesome mom someday, you know?"

"You really think so?" Santana asked hopefully.

The blonde smiled at her. "I _know_ so."

She pressed a gentle kiss to Santana's lips just as the door opened and everyone piled into the room. Santana and Brittany remained in their own little world as everyone stared at them.

Puck finally broke the silence.

"Am I the only one thinking this is hot?"

Several hands slapped him at the same time and he frowned.

"God, just making an observation."

Brittany giggled. "I love you, San."

"Love you, too, Britt."


End file.
